


Tired

by spjderloki



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Gen, Get You A Friend Like Ned, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'd die for them, LITERALLY, M/M, Minor Ned Leeds/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Trans Peter Parker, it gets a little angsty, seriously, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 10:02:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15628308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spjderloki/pseuds/spjderloki
Summary: too tired. peter is spider-man, an avenger, an A+ student, a friend, a nephew and the most insecure teenager he knows. lucky for him, ned's there when he feels like the whole world's wheight is on his shoulders, to help him get away — one breath at a time.





	Tired

**Author's Note:**

> hey gays! i started writing this mess a few days ago because i wasn't feeling well and i needed some peterned fluff to smile and... this came out! so, first of all, read the trigger warnings i'm gonna put on the end notes so you don't read anything, well, triggering. take care of yourself! stay hydrated! eat! take your meds! sleep! hug a friend!
> 
> update: re-edited this baby on may 7th, 2019. fixed spelling errors and whatnot... so, yeah! hopefully it looks like less of a literal mess now. enjoy!

Peter wasn’t even exhausted. No, he was way beyond exhausted. He was so tired, the book he was reading even looked like a comfortable pillow and he wanted to lie down his head and rest but no, no, _no_. There’s no time and _why_ and _how_ and _when_ did he get himself into this. But he couldn’t give up, he couldn’t and he _wouldn’t_ because he felt like the whole world was resting on his shoulders. Resting. The rest of the world was resting but he wasn’t because there’s no time time _time._

His neck. Why was it hurting so much? Did he take his painkillers? _No, he didn’t,_ because painkillers make him sleepy. Right. He _can’t_ sleep. Not now. But when? Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a minute… No, no, _no. The paper is due tomorrow and I can sleep when I die. Am I gonna die? What happens to people when they die?_

Knock, knock. Was that his neck, trying to talk to him?  
Knock, knock. Was his brain trying to piss him off?  
Knock, knock. What was that noise? Was he going crazy?  
Knock, knock. “Peter, for god’s sake. It’s freezing out here.”  
Knock, knock, knock, _knock_. Oh, right. Ned. Why was Ned there? Did he call him? Maybe he _was_ going crazy.

“It’s open,” he said, and by the raspy voice that came out instead of the cheerful squeaks he tends to use to speak, he could tell it was the first thing he said in a very long time because he was too tired tired _tired_ to talk to himself. Ned opened the window. Why was he coming in through the window? Why didn’t he use the door? “Why didn’t you use the door?”

“Because it’s…” He turned. He frowned. Was he mad? “Holy shit, what happened to you?” He took off his shoes and walked towards him, but Peter remembered that there wasn’t time, so he turned to look at the paper again. The letters, though. They just wouldn't stay still. Why? He wasn’t even _that_ tired… Right?

His neck still hurt. He rubbed it with one hand while writing useless words on his useless computer. He could practically hear the voice of his classmate mocking mocking _mocking_ him and he couldn’t let that happen. Not again. Never again.

“Peter.”

“Peter…”

“Peter?” Ned sighed and looked at the clock. Wow, it really was late.

“Peter, come on. Look at me,” and so, he did. “How long have you been up?”

He counted with his fingers a little but he was too tired to think. “Not that much.”

“Oh, really? It’s three in the morning. I called you last Tuesday to check on you and you were working on this paper. It’s been six days. Have you slept since then?”

“I…” It hurt. The neck. It hurt so much. “ _Ned_.”

“I’m here.”

“It hurts,” he cried.

“You need to sleep, okay?”

“No, no, no, no, no, no. I can’t, I can’t, I _can’t,_ ” he was shaking. When did he start shaking?

“Peter—”

“I can’t fail, Ned. Never again.”

“You're not failing, you’re falling apart,” Ned said in a slightly more demanding voice than intended. The words floated right into Peter's brain, red eyes and shivering little body.

Falling apart. Like a building. Like a plane in a plane crash. Like his dreams, if he fails. Why was he falling apart? He was tired. His brain wasn’t working anymore. He wanted to sleep but he couldn’t couldn’t _can’t_.

“ _Ned_?” Peter couldn't see.

“I’m here. Not gonna leave until you sleep,” Ned wasn't sure if putting a hand on the boy's shoulder would help as comfort or just make everything worse. He decided not to risk it.

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Leave. Please. Don’t. I’m— I'm falling apart. _Please_.”

Ned got closer and looked at the laptop. The light the screen irradiated was the only light in the room and “Peter, are you wearing your contact lenses?” No, he wasn’t. “Okay, let’s go. Call it a day. That’s it, come with me. See your bed over there? Can you make it to over there?” But he couldn’t because his neck, his legs, his chest, his head, his eyes, and he’s falling apart apart _apart_. So Ned helped him stand up by wrapping his arm around his shoulders and _oh my god_. “Please tell me you’re not wearing a binder. Please tell me that you didn’t spend so many days wearing a binder.”

“ _I’m sorry_ ” Ned walked Peter and made him sit on the bed.

“Arms up.”

“Ned, no—”

“Bullshit. You’re too tired and that binder is going to crush your ribs. Arms up.”

So Peter did as asked and Ned grabbed a new, clean, fresh shirt from Peter’s closet. Then he proceeded to take the old shirt off as did with the binder. Peter let out a sigh of relief and pain. He was too exhausted to feel embarrassed and _Ned would never judge his body. Ned’s not like the rest. Ned’s Ned and that’s why Ned can stay. Please, Ned, stay._

He let Ned put him the new shirt on and some kind of refreshing feeling ran through him, but he was so tired, he didn’t even enjoy it. His neck. His head. His eyes. He sat there, looking at nothing and thinking about why oh _why_ and _when_ did school become such a horrifying thing. He loved school. Studying science and being all geeky was his brand. _Why_ and _when_ did it turn into _this_?

“Peter?”

How did it all go so wrong? How did he let this happen? _If he fails…_ But what if he already failed? What if everything in his life is meant to end up in failure, over and over and _over_ again?

“Peter.”

He didn’t want to be a disappointment. He didn’t want to be a burden. He didn’t want to _be_ anymore. He was too tired to _be_. Why was he still there? He wanted to disappear… There had to be a reason to stay, but what? Did he really have a reason to stay?

“Peter, breathe.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Ned, I can’t,” and he really couldn’t. There wasn’t enough air air _air._ Where was the air? His lungs. The air. The walls are closing in. He can’t. He’s too scared.

“Peter, listen to me.”

He wanted to give up. He wasn’t enough, he wasn’t worthy of anything. He wasn’t worthy of May, or Tony, or MJ, or Ned… Ned.

“Ned.”

“Peter, just—”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you—”

“I’m so so so so _so_ sorry.” He cried, shaking in front of him. And he _was_ sorry.

“What? Why are you— Hey, listen to me, it’s okay, it’s—” Ned tried to help, but Peter was crying and shaking and hyperventilating so much and he _knew_ what was going down, so he took his hand and looked right at him in the eye. “Peter?” Peter looked at him, too. “Listen to me. I’m here, okay? Next to you. And I’m not leaving you. And you’re here, too. With me. You’re not alone. These things you’re feeling? The pain, the fear? They’re not gonna hurt you, alright? You’ve been through this before. The panic, the... you know how that’s like, so just…” He breathed deeply to show Peter how to do it himself. “...breathe.”

And Peter fell apart. Right there, in his bed, he collapsed. It was too much.

“It’s okay,” Ned whispered while hugging him, carefully.

“It’s _not_ okay. I’m not. I’m sorry”

“Peter, I know. I know you don’t know how _amazing_ you are but, holy shit, you’re amazing, dude! I mean— You _are_ the Spider-man! You’re an Avenger! You’re smart and funny and awesome and caring and— You’re Peter Parker, for fuck’s sake. You’re the best. And it’s okay if you don’t feel like that. It’s okay if you feel like you’re less, because I’m here and I’ll always be here to remind you this stuff. I won’t leave, okay? I promise.”

And Peter listened. And Peter cried. And Peter felt warm inside.

“That’s it, alright. Feeling a little better, aren’t ya?” Ned said and held him as he felt how Peter’s breathing rhythm came back to regular. _Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. You can do this. It’s okay. Okay. Okay._ Peter nodded and sat back in his bed. Ned sneaked into the bathroom—  _it was_ ~~_3am_ ~~ _4am after all, and they didn’t want May to wake up—_  and brought back a glass of water and a painkiller. He gave them to Peter and they both lied down in his bed. Peter exhaled the air he didn't realize he was holding back when he finally felt the pillow against his still achy neck. “Ned?”

“Yes?”

“Can we— Uh, the thing we did, you know. When we were younger. When one of us got nightmares — it was mostly me, but... You know?”

“You wanna cuddle, Petey?” Ned asked but there was no malice or pun intended behind his words. Peter sighed and nodded. Ned's heart just grew and grew inside of him. "Sure. Why would you even ask?"

So both teenagers turned on their side, Peter looking at the wall where his spidey fan-arts were hang up and Ned looking at Peter, feeling his chest going up and down against his arms, as they both slowly fell asleep. Peter’s anxiety and trust issues, Ned thought, were something to be worked on for a long time. Like a long walk — you don't think so at some points, but you _always_ get there eventually. They were only sixteen, after all, and being a teenage superhero with an A average to maintain and a secret identity to keep from pretty much everyone else was something really draining and really, _really_ exhausting. But he wasn’t alone, he never was. Peter just… Needed to see that, acknowledge it, take it in. One breath at a time.

After about half an hour, Ned slowly slipped from Peter’s bed and sat on the computer. ‘Energy/Enthalpy to remove one electron from one atom’ he read and smiled. “Oh, Peter. You’re so lucky I’m your best friend, you nerd idiot.” He said to himself as he began to write.

“I really am,” Peter whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings:  
> \- anxiety  
> \- sleeping disorder  
> \- mentions of bullying  
> stay safe, kiddos!
> 
> anyway, i hope you liked it! honestly, i think it turned out pretty great, compared to my first works. so, uh, go follow me on twitter because i'm the best (@avastrk) and leave a comment if u want! i /love/ feedback. love ya! see ya!


End file.
